Turnabout Messdeck
by Villy Trebuchet
Summary: Shortly after the events on Gourd Lake, another murder threatens to prevent those involved in the DL-6 incident from ever finding peace. Some OCs. Rated T to be safe. Spoilers for the first game.
1. Old Wounds

_Hey everyone! I cba with putting up this authory stuff at the top when I first published this, so if you were thinking 'Um, where the HELL did that come from??', you're not going crazy. This is a fic I started on holiday a fair while ago, but hadn't finished... I was cleaning up the other day, and found it (I had handwritten the first two chapters). Sooo as chapter 2 made me laugh a bit, I thought I'd put it on here. xD Although now I have to put effort into finishing it. Lol! Well please let me know what you think of it, even if you hate it, rofl! I'm an attention whore so I'd much rather get ridiculous hatred in my reviews than get none at all. All the same, be kind. ;P_

_So yes! About the story! It's set between the 4th and 5th case of the first game, though there may be one or two ambiguous non-spoiler references to things that happen in T&T. Nothing major though. It's another murder related to the DL-6 incident, as it says in the description... not much else to say without spoiling it, lol! Well I hope you enjoy, anyways. =)_

_I don't own any of the characters, etc ,etc. Except Winston Payne. Let's face it, EVERYONE owns him._

* * *

**Chapter 1: Old Wounds**

_January 19, 02:50 pm, 2017._

Thin shafts of light pierced through the grey blinds in the shadowy law office. A wilting pot plant and a fading poster were the only decorative items in the otherwise blank room. Sitting beside a bookcase jam-packed with apparently unread, dusty tomes, sat a tall man in a crisp dark blue suit and red tie, his black hair carefully styled into porcupine-like spikes that shot out behind him. This daring look was the only indication of the youth of the man, who otherwise looked old beyond his age. In his hand he held a thin, wrinkled piece of paper, which fluttered gently in the breeze from the partially opened windows. He stared at this delicate item with unblinking eyes, wise and thoughtful. He started suddenly at the sound of two loud knocks on the dull, rectangular door, and quickly stuffed the paper into his pocket.

'Phoenix Wright?' For someone who knocked so vehemently, the voice was surprisingly gentle and feminine, with a slight musical quality. Phoenix looked up. Before him stood a short young woman, with sandy hair, long and flowing. She had big, round, iridescent azure eyes and a smooth pale face, like an elliptical pebble washed upon a deserted beach. A few freckles dotted her cheeks, and over her shoulder hung an expertly coiled rope, supported by one hand. She was wearing a billowy pale blue dress that perfectly accentuated her figure, and she wore practical, but pretty indigo sandals. Upon her wavy hair rested a white captain's hat, and flapping through the open door came a bright scarlet streak, that sent neon flashes of multi-coloured feathers floating through the air before perching upon the coiled rope and preening its wings. 'I'm Miranda Ross. Oh, and this is my parrot, Polly.'

Phoenix's eyes widened sharply. 'Polly…?'

'Yes, that's right,' confirmed Miranda, oblivious to the defense attorney's curiosity, 'I… I'm in a bit of trouble.' She looked away sadly, her large eyes sparkling with newly-formed tears. 'But it wasn't him! I swear!' The woman let out something between a cough and a sob, hugging herself tightly and shaking. As if hearing her for the first time, Phoenix drew his attention away from the parrot and focussed on Miranda instead. Remembering his manners, he stood up from the fairly basic red sofa and gestured towards it.

'I'm… sorry to hear that. You'd better sit down.' She walked over, a little unsteadily, and lowered herself onto the edge of the seat.

'It's my father,' said Miranda, sniffing and drying her eyes, 'He's been arrested for murder. But, but I know he didn't do it! He would never do anything like that. No-one believes me, no-one will listen. So I came here… you will represent him, won't you? He's innocent. He… he has to be.' Phoenix leaned against the grey bookshelf, pondering. _What question do I ask first? And that parrot… it couldn't be the same one, could it? Best to begin at the beginning… wherever that is…_

'Could you tell me about the victim?' Miranda glanced up at Phoenix to acknowledge his question, before slowly returning her gaze to the carpet, 'If it's not too much trouble?'

'Well… I don't know much about him. He was a friend of my father's, but I never really saw him that often. I used to take care of his parrot when he went on holiday. At around Christmas, he gave her to me, but not in person. My dad brought her back for me after a visit. And now… well, I'm all the parrot's got, now that…' She interrupted herself with a loud sob that somewhat ruined her graceful first impression.

'Do you remember anything at all about him? There must be something!' Phoenix's hand tensed as his fingers gripped the shelf. _It's too much of a coincidence!_

'I'm sorry, no, I don't.' Phoenix's hand relaxed and he slumped back against the bookcase. _There's one thing I could try…she'll think I'm weird, though. Eh, never stopped me before…_

'Polly? What's the code to the safe?' The parrot cocked one eye up at Phoenix, and seemed to be somehow smirking at him.

'SQUAWK! 2612, SQUAWK!' Phoenix froze, trembling slightly. He gulped.

'Mr. Wright, are you okay?' The famous attorney pulled himself together, blinked, and turned to face Miranda, a calming smile upon his face. _It's like Mia always said…_

'Yes… yes, I'm fine, thanks. I've just realised something. That's all.'

…_you can't show a face like that to your client._

* * *

Later that afternoon, after Ms. Ross had left, Phoenix had settled back down on the red sofa, sipping a steaming hot mug of coffee. The sunshine had dwindled now, so that the blinds had been closed and artificial light was glowing from a dying office lamp. He had yet to investigate the case further, or even talk to the defendant, even though he knew that the trial couldn't be far away. But he didn't know if he could bring himself to do it. _All that mess with the DL-6 incident was meant to be over, all dealt with. Even if I can handle this, what about him? I can't keep thinking about this…_

'Hello? Wright?' This time there was no mistaking the voice. _Perfect timing…_ Phoenix sighed wearily. He hoped desperately that the visitor had not heard of the murder.

'Come in,' he said, adjusting his tie and dusting himself off, the way he always felt inclined to when Edgeworth visited. The prosecutor stepped inside the Wright & Co. Law Office, smoothing down his hair in one graceful motion. Phoenix still found it a shock to see Edgeworth in casual clothing, even though they'd been meeting outside court as friends for a while now. His old rival was wearing a long black coat over an equally black polo-necked shirt and dark jeans, which suited him oddly well in spite of the fact that he usually wore a pink, ruffled ensemble. 'Good to see you again, Edgeworth.'

'Drop the small talk, Wright. Have you heard the news?' _Please say that he's referring to a half-price sale on doilies…_

'Which news do you mean?' Phoenix asked, avoiding Edgeworth's gaze.

'I know you know about Yogi.' Edgeworth strode over irritably and sat down beside Phoenix, opening a can of beer from the small crate he'd brought with him. _Edgeworth? Beer? This can't be good…_

'How'd you work that one out?'

'It's past 5:00 pm and you're still in your office clothes. You've obviously had a bad day. Besides….' Said Edgeworth, looking smugly up at Phoenix, 'There are parrot feathers all over the floor… I suppose you've got a client.'

'Are you prosecuting?' There was a slight pause. Phoenix blinked. _Should I have said anything?_

'No. I've had enough of this.' Edgeworth swigged his beer in an uncontrollable manner that unnerved Phoenix. _Edgey's obviously not holding up too well, then…_

'Edgeworth... are you going to be okay?' Asked Phoenix, his face etched with concern. Edgeworth laughed out loud, although his voice sounded hollow and mirthless, and he seemed to be doing his best not to look Phoenix in the eye.

'Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'll be okay.' Another swig of beer. Phoenix reached over Edgeworth towards the beer crate and picked up a can. It was surprisingly cold. _Edgey must have come over here pretty quick…_

'So what're you going to do?'

'Nothing. I'll just lay back and wait for the results of the trial. With any luck, the three cases will be unrelated, but… I don't suppose that's likely. Is the investigation going well?'

'Ah. Well. I haven't started yet,' Edgeworth stared at Phoenix in disbelief.

'You're… not serious?'

'I couldn't face going back to all of this.'

'Wright, the trial is the day after tomorrow,' Phoenix shrugged it off, smirking.

'I've had worse. Besides… I know a lot about it already from… the other time. It was on the news as well, with Yogi escaping from death row last week. Nobody expected that he, the killer, would end up dead. Quite the news story…' The two lawyers remained silent, occasionally drinking their beers.

'So, what do you want to do?' Edgeworth inquired, after some time. There was a slight pause as Phoenix thought of his answer.

'Steel Samurai?' He offered, grinning. Edgeworth glared at him icily, 'Alright, alright, we'll play chess or something then.'

'Much better.'


	2. Flowers

_Yay, this is my favourite chapter so far. xD Though hopefully I can beat it with chapter 3, or other chapters later on..._

_I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has read chapter 1, and a much bigger thank you to everyone who was not so put off by the first chapter that they continued reading, lol! Not that I've been obsessively viewing the story traffic or everything. Ehehehe... ahem. Please let me know what you think of it, anyways! Seriously though, it means a lot to know that people appreciate my stuff enough to come back and read it again. Makes all the ages spent typing worth it!_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Flowers**

_January 19, 05:09pm, 2017._

It was evening when Edgeworth left the office to drive back home. Phoenix had eventually decided to pull an all-nighter, collating all the old evidence he had previously gathered to see which pieces would be relevant to the new case. Edgeworth had felt it best to leave him alone, and besides – there was only so much chess one could play before the board game became overpoweringly soporific. The streets and buildings outside the office were very big, very square. Edgeworth appreciated this urban quality, as it made him feel comfortable and secure. In the city, every convenience imaginable was available to him, and with his refined tastes, this range of supply was necessary.

He shook his hair out of his eyes and strode over to his shiny red sports car. He unlocked the sleek, polished metallic doors via remote control. Edgeworth prized the car greatly, and had always taken rigorous care of it, becoming distraught at the idea of the slightest thing happening to it. He slid into the driver's seat after carefully opening the door. Closing it behind him, he turned the key in the ignition and tilted his leather seat backwards to give him more room. Twenty minutes of calm driving took him to his home. Edgeworth got out of the car and fumbled for his house keys, whilst checking the time on his antique pocket watch. Somehow he was able to decipher that the time was 7:04 pm, despite the numerous clock hands and intricate designs upon the face. Edgeworth deduced that he had only an hour to prepare.

After entering the luxury apartment, he went straight to his polished mahogany wardrobe and picked out his most ruffled, non-prosecutor suit. It was dark blue and soft, as well as creaseless from the way it had been neatly rolled. He quickly got changed, and ran a comb through his already tidy hair. Edgeworth brushed his teeth and washed his hands with fresh lemon-scented liquid soap, before doing up his sleeves with a pair of elegant gold cufflinks. Once he had finished putting his casual clothes into a rustic woven laundry basket for his housekeeper to take care of, it was almost time.

The prosecutor strode across the beautiful, varnished parquet flooring towards the kitchen, clapping his hands to turn on the electric chandeliers as he went. A faint waft of cologne escaped from his suit as he opened up the burgundy refrigerator, reaching in with his free hand. He pulled out a frilly corsage of delicate white and blue flowers, a little over-sized, but not ridiculously so. A single petal fell slowly down to the marble kitchen tiling, which Edgeworth allowed to land before surreptitiously placing it back amongst the blossoms.

A short section of a classical symphony resonated throughout the apartment, although it sounded electronic and faintly tinny.

'Ah, she's here,' muttered Edgeworth to himself, fiddling with the ruffles on his waistcoat. And then, a little louder, 'I'm just coming!' Smiling to himself, Edgeworth made his way to the front door, before unbolting it and opening it up.

'Oh, it's you,' said Edgeworth, trying to hide the shock and horror creeping across his face. 'Are you here to laugh at me?' The prosecutor turned a darker shade of pink than his favourite suit.

'Um, no… you left your, uh – 'wallet' behind at the office.' Phoenix handed over a mauve object that could only be described as a woman's purse.

'Look Wright, the assistant at the shop said it was unisex –'

'-Yeah, whatever. Hey, you look nice,' joked Phoenix, eyeing the many ruffles.

'Actually, I was expecting some company, so Wright, if you wouldn't mind…'

'Alright, I'll go. See you whenever,' said Phoenix, taking one last look at Edgeworth's frilly ensemble and smirking, before turning to head back home. He hesitated. 'By the way… Edgeworth, whatever happens in court –'

'I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. See you later, Wright.' Edgeworth closed the door and sat down on a dark red armchair adorned with lacy cushions, waiting for his date to arrive. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again. Edgeworth got up, adjusted his ruffles once more, and turned the door handle.

'Are you ready to go, Miles?' Edgeworth smiled at the beautiful lady before him, her hair neatly curled and her formal dress perfectly suiting her big blue eyes.

'Yes, Miranda. Let's go.'

* * *

It had been a long morning for Joe. Dull as his job usually was, today it had been unusually harrowing. In this instance, the defendant had refused to stay clam, and was continually asking Joe petty questions. Needless to say, it was starting to get on his nerves.

'Mr. Ross, I cannot give you further information at this time,' he repeated, wearily.

'And why not?!?'

'Because I don't have it. For the last time, I'm just the security guard!'

'Oh.' The detention centre was a bleak place, with its high, bare walls and utter lack of any kind of furniture, save one uncomfortable seat. High up in the corners of the ceiling hung one or two surveillance cameras, which only added to the harshness of the environment. 'Yarr, this be a fine mess an' no mistake.'

Joe kept quiet. His experience as a security guard had taught him that it was almost always better not to ask. Instead, he remained standing up straight, neat, formal and sombre, as he was accustomed to doing. Although, that said, he was beginning to feel the repercussions of this lack of movement. Occasionally, his blue, official-looking shirt would stretch over a rotund belly.

'Have ye any ship's biscuits, matey?' Joe felt like sighing, but maintained his self-control.

'No, Mr. Ross.' _If only this guy's attorney would hurry up and get here…_

'Mr. Ross?' A new voice echoed about the near-empty place, a welcome change from the mundane. Phoenix Wright was here at last.

'Call me Albert!' Grunted the defendant, through a thick, tangled mass of matted white beard. He had a skinny, gaunt face, tanned from years of sailing under the sun, and wore an excessively large pirate's hat, complete with Jolly Roger. He was covered from head to toe in burnished gold and silver jewellery that clinked whenever he moved. To Phoenix's dismay, the defendant seemed to be carrying a genuine cutlass. Not for the first time, the defense attorney was glad that there was a large panel of bulletproof glass in the detention centre separating visitors and detainees.

'Alright… Albert Ross, I need to know the truth. How do you know Yanni Yogi?'

'Yanni Yogi? What kinda seadog's wife'd name one o' their elvers Yogi?' _Why on earth would a seadog's wife give birth to eel babies…? Wait, focus. What is he trying to hide so desperately? And more importantly, how can I get him to talk?_

'Mr. Ross –'

'Albert!'

'Let me tell you a story about a parrot named Polly…'


	3. Bad Luck

_I don't like this chapter so much. =/ I've been a bit distracted, I guess, so maybe that's why. Ah well, hopefully it'll do. I guess it didn't help matters that I was suddenly inspired to write a Portal fic, completely slowing down any progress with this story. It's here now anyway, hehe. I also changed the title. I really didn't like the old one, it seemed kind of weak... idk, lol. Hopefully someone'll pick up the reference in the new title, anyways. As always, please let me know if you like it or not! Reviews are always welcome._

_Enjoy! ^^_

* * *

**Chapter 3: Bad Luck**

_January 20, 11:32 am, 2017._

Phoenix had spent the entire morning interrogating Albert Ross, the defendant. It had been slow work, due to Mr. Ross'… eccentricity. For some reason, the guard had allowed Phoenix to interview the possible pirate before visiting hours, whereas usually, security was very strict on this matter. Despite the arduous interview, however, Phoenix had yet to make much progress on the case. He had gathered a lot of information, but somehow he was unable to process it, as if there was some kind of veil upon his mind that enabled him to look, but not really see what was there. Tired and bewildered, the defense attorney sat down on a bench outside Albatross Boatbuilders, the business his defendant owned. He stared at the exterior of the building, the giant, wobbling plywood bird beside the front door drawing his attention away from the case. _Should hook it up with the Blue Badger… _

'Mr. Wright?' _Who is it now?_ Phoenix looked up wearily, running his hands through his spiked-up hair, only to find Miranda Ross standing there.

'Oh, it's you…'

'I'm sorry for how distraught I was the other day, I was just so upset… um, is something the matter?' Her innocent smile had no effect on Wright whatsoever. He hadn't been an attorney for that long, but he'd seen his fair share of innocent smiles, and knew that they were hardly ever an indication of genuine innocence. _She reminds me of her…_

'Ms. Ross, I need to know. Do you have an alibi for the time of the murder?'

'A-an alibi? You don't suspect me, do you?' Miranda batted her long, curled eyelashes, further increasing Phoenix's suspicion.

'Of course not,' Phoenix replied reassuringly, smiling back at the graceful young woman standing before him. _I don't trust you, yet you're sort of my client…I've got a bad feeling about all this._

'Haha, I knew you'd trust me, Mr. Wright! No-one else will,' she said, with an affected sigh. She hooked the coiled rope off of her shoulder and placed it near a couple of crates, next to the giant plywood bird.

'So, about the -'

'-Bird, right? Beautiful, isn't she? Her name's Annie the Albatross, our mascot.' Laughed Miranda merrily, crouching down to pat the bird's fairly well-painted wing and tossing her sandy hair behind her. 'Daddy made her!'

'Um, I was actually talking about –' Miranda sprung upwards and skipped away from Annie the Albatross.

'-this step ladder?' Inquired Miranda, pointing towards the aforementioned object.

'Huh? No! Wait, that's not even a step ladder!'

'Yes it is! See, look at the rungs. Is there something wrong with your eyesight, Mr. Wright?' Her own eyes appeared to be filled with genuine concern.

'No, my eyes are fine – that's a ladder, not a step ladder.'

'It really is a step ladder. You have to pay attention to the simple things in life, you know.' _What's that supposed to mean? It's a LADDER! Anyone can see that…_

'Ms. Ross, I really need to ask…' Phoenix's voice trailed off, and he scratched his head. _What WAS I going to ask?_

'Yes?' She smiled at him again, her dress flowing around her knees in the wind.

'Um… uh… actually, never mind. I'd better get back to my office to check things over. I guess you'll be watching the trial tomorrow?' Phoenix got up from the bench and immediately regretted it. He'd been sitting down too long, and his joints ached. A little irritably, he brushed himself off with his hands, noticing that there was something in his pocket. _It's probably that… she shouldn't see it. Good thing I wasn't reading it out here._

'Watching?' Miranda laughed, folding her arms. 'I'm being called as a witness.'

* * *

Detective Gumshoe sighed miserably, his legs hurting from crouching down too long. His long trenchcoat gathered about his ankles, so that whenever he got up, he trod mud into the hem. As it had seen a lot of use, the battered garment was dirty enough anyway, so it was almost difficult to notice. An instant noodle spillage had left a stain on the back of his shirt, so there was no way he could take off his coat now. He sighed again. The investigation team had scoured the murder scene, only to find very few clues. Nothing decisive, at least. _Why is it always like this? I'm so hungry…and there's so much trash in the grass here… it stinks._

'Detective? Anything new?' Inquired the prosecutor for the case loudly. Gumshoe looked up at him. His green suit did not suit his skintone, and his ridiculous voice made him seem extremely unprofessional. _This is why I respect Mr. Edgeworth so much!_

'Uh, sorry, pal…' The prosecutor looked down at Gumshoe, whose puppy-dog eyes made him seem even more downtrodden.

'Make sure you find something!!'

'I'm sorry, Mr. Payne…'

'Sorry's not good enough!' Yelled Winston Payne furiously, his voice making him seem more amusing then intimidating. 'Just make sure you find another clue before the trial!' Gumshoe watched him walk off, noting the sun glinting off of the prosecutor's wrinkled, bald head. _There goes the 'Rookie Killer'… what I wouldn't do for some instant noodles right now…_The detective shook his head sadly, in defeat. It was unlikely that he would find anything, and that would mean yet another pay cut. He'd had his fair share of those already, but each time it happened, it still hurt. _Mr. Edgeworth, why won't you prosecute?_

* * *

It was beginning to get dark outside, and Edgeworth hadn't left the apartment all day. He was exhausted physically and emotionally, and still feeling the effects of yesterday's alcohol. He had, for the first time in years, overslept his alarm, and this had disturbed him greatly. _At least I'm not going to court tomorrow… unlike that fool, Wright. Wright, Wright, Wright…I guess I should be grateful to him, but…_ Edgeworth sighed, staring at the wall opposite him. It was decorated with pastel wallpaper, with intricate etched designs, and had various works of art hanging from it. There were many paintings, but all were small, and quite ordinary, in an extravagant way. Against the wall rested a tall bookcase, with a globe and a few glass and china trinkets resting upon its shelves. Looking rather out of place was a small Steel Samurai figurine, which he wanted to get rid of, but felt guilty about doing so. With an effort, Edgeworth got up from his armchair and strode towards the bookcase, his shoes making loud taps upon the floor.

He reached, very deliberately, towards a large, dusty book on the third shelf down from the top. It was plain, and very old, with an air of antiquity about it. He took it out and placed it delicately upon the floor, reaching in again with his hand, this time for a small, previously hidden door that opened to reveal a tiny hatch containing a much tinier, neater book, decorated with frills. He fished out a key from his pocket and opened up the silver lock holding the book shut, before idly putting the key on one of the shelves. Edgeworth took it over to his armchair, and sat down, opening it up.

'What the- WHERE THE HELL IS IT?!'


End file.
